


It's A Date

by PhasicDreamer



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF, X-Ray & Vav (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, No Smut, Suggestive Themes, not too bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-31 12:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6469846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhasicDreamer/pseuds/PhasicDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being friends with the city's local heroes, two of which who happen to be insufferable morons, has made it so you're prepared for anything. You expect the unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's A Date

Being friends with the city's local heroes, two of which who happen to be insufferable morons, has made it so you're prepared for anything. You expect the unexpected.

But being woken up in the middle of the night to find the bear vigilante on your doorstep, dead warthog in his arms, is something you never saw coming.

“Mogar wishes to give you his latest kill,” Mogar grunts, hard eyes boring into your wide ones as he thrusts the animal to you. You immediately take a step back, your face twisting from shock to furious.

Just cause you like the guy doesn't mean he can just come around at ungodly hours of the morning with dead animals.

“What the hell, Mogar?! Why are you giving me a dead warthog at 1:47 in the morning?!” you finally manage to choke out, gaze jumping from his 'gift' to his confused face.

The taller brunette's brows furrow. He brings the carcass to observe at eye level, glaring at it as if it had personally lied to him, “Mogar thought it looked more like a puma.”

You rub your temples, trying to coax the growing headache away and open you door, inviting the man in.

“Forget it, just get inside before anyone sees you,” you give an irritated sigh, pushing a firm hand against his broad shoulder when he tries to move past you, “and leave the pig.”

Mogar looks a little upset, but complies, the animal landing with a loud thud on your welcome mat.

Your heart leaps when he brushes against you, the scent of pine and manly musk causes your head to spin and you have to lean against the door nob for support until he's completely inside.

The door clicks shut and you turn to the hero standing in your living room looking wildly out of place, suddenly aware of your lack of appropriate attire. A tank top and kitten pajama pants isn't the best thing to be seen wearing in front of the guy you've been crushing on for months.

Crossing your arms you hope to come across as intimidating to the way more intimidating man. You aren't scared of him, you know he'd never hurt you, but being alone with him makes you nervous and you hope he can't see you shaking from where you are.

Leaning back against the door you fix the warrior with a stern glare, mentally berating yourself whenever your eyes wander along his perfectly sculpted cheeks, down his squared shoulders to his muscly arms, and back up his built chest.

Seriously, couldn't the man put a shirt on for once?

“Okay Mogar, you wanna explain what you're doing here and why I have a dead pig on my welcome mat?” you demand, foot tapping impatiently in time with the vicious beating of your heart.

Mogar doesn't move, face as stoic and angry looking as always, but his eyes do flit around you as if he were too nervous to make direct eye contact for long. But he couldn't be nervous, why would you of all people make the Mogar nervous?

“Mogar wanted to present a token of courtship. He hoped you would accept and become his mate,” he says this with an air of certainty, direct finality, but his baritone voice waves and his hands curl into fists at his sides.

His confidence wanes when you don't reply and the warrior bear starts to have second thoughts. Perhaps the idiots with the big nose and stupid glasses were wrong and you didn't return his affections, he was probably wasting his time here.

You on the other hand completely shut down. Nothing was properly processing through your mind, everything was static.

He likes you? Mogar, the righteous warrior of justice, the indestructible bear man, the stoic heart throb, actually likes you? But why? You weren't a hero or anything special, you were just Hilda's assistant. Sure you'd saved The Lads, as the super hero trio prefers to be called, more times than you care to count, but you've had to be saved just as many times.

Smart, but no where near Hilda's level, and a damsel in distress like Ash. You weren't unique, so what did you do to make someone like Mogar fall for you?

Minutes ticked by in heavy silence, the air only accompanied by the rattling of your heart against your ribs and your uneven breaths.

“Are you... Asking me out on a date?” you whisper, still in complete denial. There was no way this was really happening, it had to be a dream right?

His hazel eyes narrow, “'Date'? Mogar does not know of this 'date' in which you speak of.”

You nearly face palm, of course you'd have to explain dating to the barbaric warrior.

“Uh, w-well you see, a 'date' is a thing couples-or mates- do to sometimes express their, um, affections...” you fumble with your explanation, finishing lamely and awkwardly.

Mogar hums, the gears in his head turning around the new information, “So this 'date' is a mating ritual.”

Close enough, “Yeah, I guess you could call it that.”

He gives a firm nod, that spark of fierce determination returning to his eyes, “Then yes, Mogar is asking you out on a 'date'.”

You figure that's what he's been trying to do, but having him confirm it doesn't stop your stomach from performing several acrobatic stunts.

It certainly doesn’t help when he descends upon you, still maintaining a respectable distance while just being out of arms reach. How can you want to be as far away as possible from someone while still wanting to fall into their well toned arms?

You thought it was hard to look him in eye before when he was on the other side of the room, but it's nearly impossible to keep eye contact with his heated gaze so close to you. You could practically feel the warmth rolling off him in waves, each one washing over you and chipping away at your resolve not to jump his bones then and there.

“I,” you gulp, your back shaking against the smooth wooden door.

Come on, you can do this! You've been waiting for this moment and this is your chance, say something!

Your eyes fall close, a brief rest from that intense staring match, and you take a careful breath. It's now or never.

“I'd love to, Mogar. But no dead animals next time, yeah?” you laugh shyly, hands raising to hide your heated cheeks. God, you must look like a cherry light now.

You yelp when large, calloused hands grasp firmly onto your hips and press you further into the door. With Mogar's body flushed against your own you can feel ever vibration from his chest as he chuckles darkly, the sound sending pleasant tingles all the way down to your toes.

“Mogar is pleased,” he whispers against you cheek, his lips dragging along the skin to hover just over your own. His hot breath fans over your face, adding to the almost unbearable heat circulating between the two of you.

You remain paralyzed, heart moments away from bursting. You wait for him to make the first move, to close the gap and finally capture your lips, but he just continues to stare half lidded at you.

Seconds drag on in anticipation, neither of you willing to take that finally leap. You lick your lips subconsciously and his eyes follow the motion.

Mogar growls and you swear you died, “Mogar wishes to kiss you.”

You can't do anything more than nod and he lungs forward, sealing your lips with a bruising force.

Finally.

His lips are chapped, his hands rough as they squeeze your hips, but this only adds to the erotic sensation that is Mogar. Your palms presses against his smooth chest, fingers folding into each muscle and scar as you memorize the new terrain. You sigh in complete bliss.

It doesn't take long for his tongue to trace along your mouth, demanding entrance that you grant willingly. The appendage locks with your own in a fight for dominance that you know you're going to lose. You hands fist into his unruly hair, pulling him closer as he explores his won territory.

He groans at your tugging and nips at your bottom lip in a playful warning.

Unfortunately, the need for air is too great and you have to pull away, only managing to catch a quick breath before he turns his attention to your jaw.

Unlike the relentless attack on your mouth he trails gentle kisses up your jaw line, something that surprises you. You'd never thought Mogar capable of being so tentative, not that you're complaining.

You untangle your fingers from his curly locks and proceed to cup his cheeks, his face paint smearing under your palm. Just before he can latch onto your neck you pull him back, your winded gaze meeting his own lustful one.

He grins smugly at your breathless form, proud that he was the one to put you in such a state.

“H-How about we go on a few dates, you know, before the whole 'm-mating' part,” you gasp, the aroused part of your mind itching to hop straight to the 'mating', but the more sensible part knowing when to slow things down.

Mogar nods, nuzzling into your hands and giving you a loving smile, “Mogar understands, he will wait until his mate is ready.”

There's still an tint of lust under his adoring gaze, but he respects your decision. He's simply happy to finally be able to call you his.

But that doesn't mean he'll be leaving completely empty handed.

He picks you up easily, unfazed by your weight and startled squeak. On instinct your legs wrap securely around his hips, your arms clutching tightly to his shoulders as the ground disappears beneath your feet.

“W-what are yo-” you stutter when you notice him begin to walk down the hall towards your bedroom, your body still snuggled in his arms.

Mogar's grip tightens, the feel of his hands pressing you safely against him causing your chest to swell, “Mogar may not be able to claim you now, but he still wishes to lay with you.”

He pauses outside your door, waiting for your consent. If it were up to him he'd never leave your side, but if you wanted him gone then he would have to find it in him to part from his mate.

You thread your fingers nervously into the hair at the nape of his neck, cheeks flaring up at the idea of having Mogar in your bed. The image does look rather enticing.

“Y-Yeah, I'd like that,” you finally mumble with a shy giggle.

Mogar returns it with a content tilt of the lips, not wasting a second to kick the door open, “Whatever Mogar's mate wants.”

~ * ~

“AAAAHHHH!”

A terrified shriek jolts you from a peaceful slumber, throwing off the arm Mogar had protectively enclosed around your waist. Sensing his mate's distress, the barbaric bear man bolts up ready to fight whatever is causing you such unrest.

Struggling to untangle yourself from the sheets, your boyfriend watching confused and tense for battle, you rush to the door whilst shouting, “The pig is still outside!”

**Author's Note:**

> I love this wild bear man. Also I'm gonna try and post one short story every Friday, at least until I have a reasonable amount of chapters built up for some things I have in the works. Look forward to that.


End file.
